


Gimme A ...

by brimstonegold, virtualpersonal



Series: The Best Gift Of All Verse [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Curtain Fic, Daddy Dean, Daddy Sam, Domestic, Fluff, Fluffy, Halloween, M/M, Schmoop, Sexy Times, sam and dean are married, sam and dean are not brothers, some references to prior domestic abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 12:04:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2772344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brimstonegold/pseuds/brimstonegold, https://archiveofourown.org/users/virtualpersonal/pseuds/virtualpersonal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a one shot timestamp or short follow up to "The Best Gift Of All," and takes place at Halloween, ten months after Dean took Sam and Emily in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](http://s1114.photobucket.com/user/virtualpersonal/media/story%20art/halloweentimestamplarge_zpscc36d2d1.jpg.html)
> 
> Co-written with Brimstonegold

Dean had been out in the garage tidying things up. He hadn’t had a restoration in over a month and was getting restless. The leaves were falling, making quite a mess of the front yard but they were, as Emily pointed out, pretty. They’d taken some nice Sunday drives just looking at leaves and stopping off at little farmer’s markets. Every place they stopped Emily found a new pumpkin that was ‘just perfect’ and managed to sweet talk them into buying yet another one for her. The front porch probably had twenty pumpkins at this point. Sam was talking about carving some of them. When Dean made a crack about them being good for target practice...well, Em wouldn’t talk to him for at least three hours. He’d just been teasing...kinda. He was hopeful “Martha Stewart” was going to make him a pumpkin pie or two. That was how he kept convincing himself to let Em buy ‘just one more pumpkin.’

He walked in the back door, to the ever delicious smells of hot cider in the crock pot. “Hey! You’re slacking! Where’s my mug of cider?” he called into the living room where he heard the voices of his husband and daughter.

“In here,” Sam called out from the room he used for clients who came to the house to get a massage or physical therapy.

“Why can’t I?” Emily asked.

“Because... it’s not age appropriate,” Sam said, sounding harried. “Emily!”

“What. It’s pretty. And it’s got ruffles. Bet Popsie will like it.”

“Flip the page, pick from the kid’s section of the catalogue.”

“How about a Wendigo?” Emily suggested, her gaze lingering on the very short-skirted costume before sighing and turning the page.

“Uh-uh.”

“Awwwww. Werewolf?” she asked hopefully.

“No, they eat people’s hearts. When did you get such bloodthirsty ideas?” Sam looked toward the door, knowing exactly who he was blaming for those bloodthirsty ideas.

Seeing her popsie at the door, Emily dropped the catalogue, ran toward him, and reached up. Even before he had her half way up in the air she was telling her tale. “Halloween is for dress up, for pretend, right? But Daddy says I can’t pick anything too pretty or anything too scary or anything too... too anything. I’m gonna miss Halloween!” Leaning in, she gave Dean a kiss, and mumbled, “And I won’t get any candy or win the contest at school or--”

“Whoa there, Cinderella,” Dean said, scooping her up into his arms and giving her a kiss back. “Of course you can dress up. But we have to find just the right thing for you. You’d make a really good fairy or butterfly...or Buffy? You could be Buffy the Vampire Slayer. She was a cheerleader and carried crosses and stakes. She liked ponytails, too,” Dean said, trying to watch Sam and see if any of his ideas were on the big fat hairy ‘no’ list. “Or even a Disney Princess.”

Sam’s eyes widened as Dean gave her ideas about dressing as Buffy, which would give her ideas about wanting to watch a horror TV show. But he was in complete agreement with Dean’s last idea. “Yes, yes! A Disney Princess.... that’s what you should be,” Sam said, giving Emily an ‘I told you’ look.

“But that’s not dress up,” she protested, looking to Dean for support. “It’s not dress-up if I’m already a Disney Princess, right? I have Snow White and Sleeping Beauty and Belle outfits for pretend, and when we have tea.” She tugged on Dean, urging him to make her daddy see. 

“Hate to say it, Sam, but I kinda see her point there. Okay, no Disney Princess. What about that Hermione chick from Harry Potter?” Seeing the face Emily made, Dean tried to think of something else. “How about, uhm...” he looked at Sam, having no idea what little girls should be. Hell, he’d never dressed up until he was old enough to realize he could get in a leather coat, say ‘Ayeeeee,’ and hold out a paper bag and get candy. At least until his dad caught him. “Lessee, cheerleader? Or Greek goddess? My Little Pony?” he asked trying to think of something Sam wouldn’t kill him for suggesting.

“I don’t have four legs,” she protested, biting her lower lip. 

“Cheerleader. We can get you pompoms,” Sam said. “Did you know Dean used to be a cheerleader? He can teach you some cheers, you’d like that wouldn’t you?”

Her eyes had been glistening with tears but she suddenly turned to Dean. “You were?” she asked in awe. “I could maybe be a cheerleader.”

Dean stared at Sam slack-jawed. “I was wha--” at Sam’s reprimanding look, Dean swallowed back his protest. Oh, Sam was so going to owe him for this. Happy endings for a week straight. And a couple very happy good mornings. At least. 

“I was what you’d call more of a cheerleader coach. Definitely helped the cheerleaders with a lot of tasks,” Dean said, ducking Sam’s gaze. “I’m sure I can remember some of those old cheers. You’d look awesome as a cheerleader and I bet no one else at school will have pom-poms.”

“Don’t listen to him, he was a damned fine cheerleader, with damned fine legs... erm, cheers,” Sam amended. 

She looked between the two of them, and then gave them a bright smile. “All of us can dress up like cheerleaders. We can match!” Squirming to get down, she started skipping around the room, singing about what they’d need.

“Red and white clothes, and pompoms, and ribb--” She stopped. “How’s Popsie going to have a pony tail?”

Sam’s hand went to his own hair, which wasn’t as short as Dean’s so he realized she had plans for it. “I’m really too tall to be a cheerleader. But you two will look _fantastic_. I can be the football player.”

She gave a nod of approval. “And Popsie... Daddy, think of something for his hair.”

“Oh, I will,” Sam promised as she skipped out of the room and started shouting for Rumsfeld and telling him all about her great Halloween idea.

Dean stalked up to Sam, giving him the evil eye. “I’m a cheerleader? A freaking cheerleader? Saaaaaam!” he hissed in complaint. “I will so get even with you for this. Just you wait until next year. I’ll suggest we go as _clowns._ Even Rummy.”

Sam’s soft laughter cut off at the mention of clowns. “That’s not funny. Don’t... I’m serious, just don’t,” he said. “And thanks. For the help, whether it was voluntary or not. You should see the outfits they have in that catalogue… some are definitely not for kids.” He shook his head. 

“I told you we should have just taken her to the Salvation Army and looked for something. Or one of the other stores. You,” Dean said, poking Sam in the shoulder, “get to look up cheers that are safe for the Imp’s ears, ‘cause you really don’t want me teaching her the couple that I know. And I already know what I’m gonna do for my hair. That temporary hair color. For all three of us,” he said, knowing full well he’d probably be the only one to end up with colored hair. “You can sew, right?” Dean joked as he picked up the catalogue and both his eyebrows climbed into his hairline. “Dude! I...I didn’t realize stuff like this was still coming in the mail. I’ll call them tomorr--” Pausing Dean tilted his head and studied one of the costumes and then looked at Sam and back at the catalogue, grinning. “Oh, baby, I think you’d look awesome in that...” Dean breathed out, licking his lips. He did have a thing for leather.

Almost against his will, Sam looked down at the catalogue. He’d been expecting Dean to point at frilly underwear or something like that, but it wasn’t anything close to what he expected. “Matrix style leather and latex... I do like the movie,” he said, trying to imagine himself in those clothes. “Where would I wear it... we don’t really go bar hopping much...”

“You know, we can always make an exception. Though just seeing you in that outfit… I’m not sure you’ll make it out the door if I spot you first,” Dean said, having completely forgotten about the fact he was going to have to dress up as a cheerleader for Emily. “Mmm-huh. Popsie likes.”

“I’ll take a look at the store.” Sam took the catalogue to see where the store was located and it was good hour away. “Without Em,” he added, almost deciding against the idea until he saw the heat in Dean’s eyes. “Maybe,” he said, leaning in and slanting his mouth over Dean’s, kissing him slowly.

Dean kissed him back, ramping up the heat and passion, pulling Sam closer, already imagining Sam in that outfit. When they broke for air he whispered. “Nice and tight in the ass. The pants for the costume. Make sure they’re tight in the ass. Not so tight you can’t move, but tight.” He nipped Sam’s ear, then worked his way down Sam’s neck to start giving him a hickie. 

Sam moaned, both at Dean’s words and at the sensations flooding his system. Gripping Dean’s hips, he tried to kiss the side of his face. “Keep it up and I’m going to get teased at work,” he half-heartedly complained. “Tell me how you really want the pants to fit...” He started pushing Dean’s over-shirt away and working his hand under his tee shirt.

“They won’t tease you. Too much.” Dean worked a little harder to make sure the hickie stayed prominent for at least a few days. He undid Sam’s belt and the button of his jeans then slipped a hand under the waistband to slide down to Sam’s ass cheek. “Tight enough to see the dimples in your ass,” Dean whispered.

Sam’s breath caught in his throat. He pressed against Dean, grinding his erection against him. “How many minutes you figure we’ve got?” Reaching with one hand, he closed the door, then started to pull Dean’s shirt off. “Whenever we do it in here... I remember the first time,” he admitted, feeling his color rise.

“Probably no more than ten or fifteen minutes knowing Em,” Dean said, helping Sam get him out of his shirt. “Yeah, I remember it too. And I remember flirting with you...and you watching TV with me, putting your head in my lap, just chilling out. Dean smiled and stopped Sam. “Hey,” he said, locking his gaze with Sam. “You two are the best thing to ever happen to me. Ever. And I love you. You know, just so you don’t think I only want you for your body or something,” he said, then grabbed the hem of Sam’s shirt and began tugging it up.

“I know... the shallow thing, it’s an act.” Once his shirt was over his head, Sam gave a nod. “Same here. And if I had to... to go through everything I did before, to find you... I’d do it again.” He raised his chin. “I love you.”

Aware that time was ticking along, Sam walked Dean backwards toward the bed, kissing him and walking lockstep with him, his body burning so hot he couldn’t bear it when they were apart. 

“Daddy, can I watch....” 

Sam landed hard on top of Dean and yelled out an answer so Emily would hear him in the living room, “Sure!”

“Cartoons or Disney only,” Dean practically wheezed from the sudden weight on him. He goosed Sam in the ribs. “I’m not getting in trouble if she was asking to watch a horror movie or Buffy or something. Now gimme some sugar. Melt-me type sugar.” Dean wrapped his arms around Sam and pulled him closer, kissing Sam like it was a goodbye kiss, making sure he was melting Sam too.

Sam’s mouth moved feverishly over Dean’s, as he kissed him back with everything he had. Every kiss, every slide of Dean’s hand over his back and ass, every shift of his body under him, made Sam burn for more. Groaning, he slid his hand under Dean’s head, lifting him up slightly as he moved against him, pressing his thigh against Dean’s arousal. 

“Sweet enough for you?” he asked thickly, moving against Dean harder, his heart banging against his chest as he brought his mouth down over Dean’s again, letting his reaction do the talking.

When Sam got aggressive like he was at the moment, it made Dean’s heart swell. It wasn’t just aggression, it was passion, and it practically made him crazy. Between Sam’s kisses and the pressure he was giving Dean’s arousal, Dean was writhing under him. Moans slipped out of him as he thrust his hips and dug his fingertips into Sam’s muscles almost hard enough to bruise. He arched up as his need grew, his breaths turning into gasps. “Love you, Sammy,” Dean murmured as he let Sam take him higher and higher.

“I... I’ll never get tired of hearing it,” Sam whispered between kisses. “Never.” Squeezing Dean’s ass, he lifted him up again, rocking his hips to rub harder against Dean. He was burning up, and he was gonna take Dean with him, even if they had to be quick. Moving one hand between them, he started undoing Dean’s jeans.

“That’s good, ‘cause I’ll never stop sayin’ it,” Dean said, giving Sam’s ass a good squeeze before pulling his hand out and running it up along Sam’s spine. He ran both hands down Sam’s back then stopped at the waist of his jeans. He slipped one hand between them and worked on getting Sam’s pants open just as Sam was doing for him. 

“Damn, baby, you’re already hard and leaking,” he murmured against his lover’s lips, then slipped his tongue into Sam’s mouth, pulling him back into an intense kiss. 

“You said melt...” Sam answered breathlessly, lifting up slightly so Dean could partially pull his jeans down. “Mmmm... melting.” Blowing out a hot breath, he scooted back and pulled Dean’s jeans down to the middle of his thigh. “You good to get on your hands and knees?” he asked. Dean hadn’t been limping or anything, but he wanted to make sure he could take the position.

“I will get in any position you want me in,” Dean said, his voice rough-sounding, his eyes filled with heat. “Tell me what you want from me baby and it’s yours, all yours. Just like I am.” Dean liked being especially romantic with Sam, because Sam, he appreciated the little things as much as the big. When Dean was romantic with him, it just seemed to make his lover shine with happiness. 

“All mine. I must’a done something right sometime.” Leaning in, Sam kissed Dean again, hard, with every fiber of his being. When he pulled back, they both moved at the same time, repositioning so Dean was on all fours, and Sam was up behind him. He pulled Dean’s jeans just a little lower, then inserted his cock between Dean’s legs and snapped his hips forward a few times until he was angled just right so he was hitting Dean’s balls. 

Reaching around Dean’s waist, he closed his hand around his thick cock and started to stroke and squeeze. Finding a rhythm, he curled completely over Dean and started to kiss his ear, moving his mouth up and down along the side of his neck, panting out hot breaths against Dean’s sensitive skin. “Love you. Love you so many ways,” he murmured softly.

“Unh,” Dean groaned with the first thrust Sam made, it making the perfect contact with his balls. Before he could say anything, he was groaning again as Sam’s warm hand wrapped firmly around him. Tilting his head he made certain to tempt Sam with better access to his neck. “Then you must be slipping,” Dean murmured as his hips began to rock in time to Sam’s thrusts and strokes. “Cause we’ve only been in about ten positions so far this week. Many means more than--unghhh--ten, doesn’t it?”

“It’s... it’s only Tuesday,” Sam countered. “Wait... you count positions?” His pause was met with a rather strong bump from Dean, that got him back on track. “Better?” he asked, pushing against Dean harder and harder, moving faster. 

“Course. I gotta keep you from getting bored with me,” Dean said, glancing over his shoulder at Sam and grinning. Giving a soft groan and nod, Dean let his head fall forward and tightened his thighs, giving more pressure to Sam’s cock even as he fucked Sam’s hand harder and harder.

“Not something you gotta worry about. You could just lay there and I’d still want you.” His eyes drifted closed as he rocked with more purpose, each thrust winding him a little tighter. He wished he could take his time, but he knew better, so he pushed on, panting in Dean’s ear as he got closer to the edge. 

“Dude, if I’m just lying there while you’re making love to me, you need to be calling 9-1-1. Idget,” Dean teased. The constant rapping of Sam’s tip against his sack and the utterly perfect way Sam stroked him hit him all at once. He didn’t even have time to give a warning as his balls suddenly tightened. He strangled back a cry as he thrust back and forth almost frenzied as cum erupted from him in a thick stream.

“Oh... God...” Sam groaned as he felt Dean go over the edge, his warm cum coating Sam’s hand. That was all it took. Pulling Dean tight against his chest, Sam ground against him a few times and tumbled over the edge, hoarsely calling Dean’s name but quickly pressing his mouth against Dean’s shoulder to muffle the sound. “Who... who needs leather pants?” Sam asked, wanting to collapse but quickly pulling their pants higher and tugging both their shirts down, before dropping down onto the bed. 

Dean chuckled, collapsing next to him. “That was just me _thinking_ about you in leather pants. Imagine if you were really in them...briefly at least.” He rolled up next to Sam, throwing a leg over his legs, and wrapping an arm around his waist. “How long you think we can get away with just laying here next to each other?”

“Commercial? Snack time?” Sam guessed, turning toward Dean, his lips curving at the corners. “You know, we could save a lot of money, with your imagination. Just show you pictures of expensive leather or...” He laughed, kissing Dean. 

“We could save a lot of money if you’d stop buying all that damned broccoli,” Dean retorted back, but welcomed Sam’s kiss and decided he would lay there with his husband just as long as their daughter would let them.

* * * 

They’d come to the school together because they were going to pick Emily up and then go to a movie and dinner afterwards. Since Dean’s hip had started to bother him, he just stood leaning against the car, waiting, while Sam went into the playground to get her.

As Emily ran back into her classroom to get her jacket, lunchbox and homework out of her cubby, Sam chatted with her teacher. She was telling him about the fall show they were going to put on, when Emily returned. As she tugged on his arm and bounced around, looking toward Dean beyond the gates, Sam kept talking. 

“Oh, and we’ll not only have singing, but dancing. Mr. Harris, who teaches in middle school, has agreed to help with the choreography. He--”

“My daddy knows how to dance,” Emily said.

Her teacher smiled.

“Sometimes he grabs my popsie in the kitchen and makes him dance.” She nodded.

“Heh. I guess I’d better...” Sam took a step back.

“Popsie mostly just stays in one place...”

“Yeah, okay, come on Em.”

“Or he just stands there and kisses Daddy. It’s gross.”

Sam slapped his hand over Emily’s mouth. “She’s ah... yeah, we gotta....” Lifting her up high, he started striding away, leaving Emily’s teacher standing there trying hard to keep a straight face.

Dean saw the high color on Sam’s face and knew it wasn’t from the nip in the air. Emily was going on and on about a play and dancing and that Sam could help teach her to dance but no kissing. Dean’s gaze shifted between the two a few times. “Sam? Do I even want to know why you’re...” He pointed his finger at his own face then opened his hand up, indicating Sam was blushing.

“Not if you ever want to look Miss Faber in the eyes. Like ever again,” Sam answered, grimacing as Emily leaned all the way across to give Dean a kiss. 

Dean turn his head so she could kiss him on the cheek, then he kissed her cheek and tugged her hat down a little on her head. “You getting me in trouble again, Imp?”

“Uh-uh,” she shook her head ‘no,’ then looked at her dad. “What? I just said Popsie doesn’t dance.”

“Right.” As Sam lowered her to the ground, she continued.

“He just mwwwwa mwaaa mwaaa....” she said, kissing her forearm to demonstrate.

“Oh God...” Sam groaned and laughed at the same time.

“Ah. That.” Dean reached out as soon as Sam set Emily down and straightened, and grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him close, giving him a deep and dirty kiss. At least until Emily’s cries of “Ewwwww” had him breaking into fits of laughter.

“Dean!” Sam exclaimed once he managed to detangle himself. “I’m the one who has to drop her off and get her in front of....” He waved his hand toward the school, although no one seemed to be paying them any attention.

Emily started to hum the kissing song and kept looking up at them.

Dean chuckled. “And I am more than proud to kiss you in front of anyone and everyone. Just be glad I didn’t do more than kiss ya,” he teased. “Besides. You’re adorable when you blush. Just wait until the dark movie theater….”

“Kid’s movie,” Sam muttered the reminder, both for himself and for Dean. As he let Emily into the car, he locked gazes with Dean, searching his eyes. Seeing only playful mischief, he shook his head and took a deep breath. “I know when I’m in trouble... both of you are going to be impossible, aren’t you?”

“We can sit in the back row and let her sit in the row in front of us,” Dean said, waggling his eyebrows at Sam. He started to open the door and grimaced. “And you’re giving me a massage tonight,” he said, slipping into the car to settle behind the wheel, shifting to get himself comfortable.

“Behave at the theater and you’ll get something more than a massage,” Sam promised, a smirk lifting the corners of his lips, but only until Emily piped in.

“Like ice cream?”

Sam leaned his head back. Yup, he was definitely dealing with two handfuls today.

* * *  
Dean had behaved himself during the movie, happy to just wrap his arm over Sam’s shoulder and lean over and kiss him now and again. After that they went to the burger joint across the street, playing pinball and video games. As soon as they got in the car to go home, Emily was fast asleep.

Dean grinned at Sam. “Guess she gets out of homework and a bath tonight, huh? Does that mean we put her to bed then I get a happy ending of a massage?”

“One track mind.” Sam shook his head, but his eyes were smoldering with heat as he looked Dean up and down. He moved closer on the seat and put his hand on Dean’s thigh, squeezing it. A jolt went up his arm. He swallowed, but didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to.

“Tell me you don’t want to ride that train,” Dean teased, seeing the look in his lover’s eyes. 

He didn’t waste any time getting them home. While Sam put Emily to bed, Dean fed Rumsfeld and tried to pick up a bit. Sam was the neat-freak, but Dean tried to at least make the effort to show Sam he knew how messy he was and that he appreciated Sam keeping things practically spotless. The least Dean could do was put empty envelopes in the recycle and stack things for later going through.

Sam spoke as he walked down the stairs. “I left her night light on. Yesterday, she told me I should only leave it on when she’s going to have bad dreams, ‘cause it’s a waste of electricity.” He gave a half-laugh. “Dean... leave it, I’ll take care of picking up,” he said. Though Dean wasn’t quite limping, his movements were stiff and Sam knew he’d been right, that his leg had started to bother him.

“I know I should let you sweep the garage, but I just hate to call you out there to do something trivial like that, you know?” Dean said, fairly certain that’s what had aggravated his old injury, and more or less acknowledging the look in Sam’s eyes that said Sam knew he was hurting. Maybe because he hadn’t been keeping up his exercises like he really should, he was finding his hip was giving him more trouble. He wasn’t looking forward to the cold weather winter would bring. It was already chilly. Spreading his arms, he wrapped them around Sam when Sam got close enough. “Have I told you today that I love you?” Dean whispered in his ear.

“Remind me,” Sam answered, settling his hand on Dean’s hips and swaying with him a little. He brushed his mouth along Dean’s chin and worked his way towards Dean mouth while angling his body just right, so his own hip was pressed against one side of Dean’s body. Just as their mouths pressed together, he moved his hip sharply and jerked Dean toward him, adjusting his bones with a soft popping sound. 

“Didn’t get enough popcorn at the theater,” Dean grumbled, but could already feel the pain easing some. “Lessee. ‘L’ is for lazy, which I definitely am. ‘O’ is for orderly, which you definitely are. ‘V’ is for vegetables, which you make me eat too many of and ‘E’ is for erotic, which I plan to be for you tonight. I L-O-V-E you.”

Sam smiled so hard his dimples showed. “You’re perfect,” he said, kissing Dean. “I mean when you’re not... misbehavin’... “ He kissed Dean again, and pressed against him. Then let out a hot breath. “And when you are... misbehavin’. Come on, let’s get this massage started before my mind hops tracks.”

Sliding his hand down Dean’s arm, Sam caught his hand and pulled him toward the massage room. “Do you think it’s unethical for your masseuse to be naked during the massage?” 

“I think it would be cruel and unusual punishment if my masseuse wasn’t. And do me a favor? Start nagging me about doing my exercises again. I know I told you I was a big boy and didn’t need reminding, but what can I say. You bring out the kid in me.” Dean shrugged sheepishly. “And did I ever tell you I think your dimples are beyond adorable?”

“Dean... you had me at ‘train.’” Tugging Dean into the room, Sam flipped a switch so that the electric padding on the bed would warm up. Then he started to undress Dean, though he kept getting distracted, leaning in to kiss him or to nuzzle his neck. 

Dean knew he wasn’t helping matters, encouraging Sam, but the padding needed to warm up, he argued to himself. Getting frustrated with the little kisses and love-nips, Dean pulled Sam up against him and slanted his mouth over Sam’s, slipping his tongue in just as soon as Sam opened for him. He loved how Sam always seemed to taste so clean and fresh and sweet. His hands were all over Sam’s hard body, his fingers sweeping over planes and ridges and valleys. A soft groan slipped out.

Twisting his tongue around Dean’s, Sam’s good intentions scattered to the winds. Leaning in, he ran his hands over Dean’s back, down to his ass, squeezing it as he ground against Dean’s arousal. Only when they were both completely out of breath did Sam pull back a little, his hot breaths mixing with Dean’s. “I’m sure this is completely unethical. Getting distracted by sex in the middle of a treatment. Fuck...” Groaning, he covered Dean’s mouth with his, cupping the back of Dean’s head and kissing him again, telling himself it was the last kiss until after the massage. 

Dean was about to tell Sam that he approved of unethical behavior from Sam when Sam’s lips pressed against his again. This time he opened for Sam. As soon as Sam’s tongue slipped into his mouth he began sucking on it, imagining it wasn’t just Sam’s tongue he was sucking on. He crushed Sam against him, forgetting everything but the one he held.

Sam knew just what was going through Dean’s mind, because the same thoughts and feelings were rushing through his own. Groaning, he took a step, nudging Dean toward the bed. Raking his hand down Dean’s back, he moved his tongue slightly in and out of Dean’s mouth, adding substance to the fantasy that he was being sucked off. Another loud groan erupted from him. 

Just as Sam started to push Dean onto the bed, Sam partly came to his senses. Pulling away abruptly, he took a couple of heavy breaths, eyeing Dean, his nostrils flaring as he tried to control his desires. “There’s _nothing_ therapeutic in what I’m thinking right now,” he said tightly, pushing Dean’s hand away when Dean would have touched him.

“Depends on what therapy you’re giving,” Dean grumbled as already missing Sam’s mouth on his own. “All sorts of therapy in that, let me tell you.” He gave Sam a dirty look when Sam pushed his hand away. “You’re evil, getting me all hot and bothered and then stopping,” he scolded as he undid his pants and pushed them and his undershorts down to collect at his ankles. His cock was erect and hard, a pearly bead glistening in its slit.

Turning his voice silken and throaty, Dean asked, “How do you want me, Baby?”

Sam’s mouth dropped open. He stared at Dean, his heart thumping against his chest, his mind a mess and hardly able to string his words together to answer Dean’s question. He licked his lips. “Ah...” The only thing he could hear was the ragged sound of his own breaths.

Chuckling, Dean slapped him lightly on the cheek. “Sammy. Face down or face up. Or should that be cock down or cock,” he wiggled his hips making his cock sway, “up?”

“Dean...” Sam practically whined. “Just...” He blinked and tried to get a hold of himself, then met Dean’s laughter-filled eyes. Once, he hadn’t known humor in the bedroom. With Dex, it had all been commands, complaints, and walking on eggshells. “Evil. You’re evil,” he said, laughing softly. “One your back. For now.”

He started to strip his shirt off and didn’t give Dean much space to move.

“Maybe we’re both a little evil,” Dean conceded. “You just want me on my back so you can give me Spidey kisses.” Dean goosed Sam in the ribs, chuckling at the way he jumped and squealed like a girl. He settled onto the massage bed and started to lean back but winced. After kicking off his pants, he looked at Sam. “Could you grab my ankle and help me get that leg up on the table? I can do it, but then you’ll be spending an extra ten minutes on even tighter knots. And I have other parts I want you to get to just as soon as the hip therapy is done.” He gave his eyebrows a waggle and licked his lips.

“I was thinking of... _dual therapy,_ ” Sam answered, dropping his shirt onto the back of a chair, then bending to help Dean get his leg up on the bed. As he rose, he swept his mouth up along Dean’s thigh to his hip bone, dropped a kiss, and straightened. Smiling at the look Dean gave him, Sam went to get some lotion and warmed it up, rubbing it between his palms.

“That settles it. You’re definitely more evil than me,” Dean said, pointing a finger at him before easing himself back. He gave a soft sigh at the heat that soaked into his back. “Shit, that’s nice,” he murmured. He glanced down at his still fairly erect penis and sighed. “Some of that lotion would feel real good on my mast.” 

“You just hit the water, and you’re ready to sail.” Standing behind Dean’s head, Sam’s eyes were drawn to Dean’s cock. Squeezing his eyes shut, he leaned down and gave Dean an upside down kiss, but refused to let it go too far. “I know full body is out of the question,” he said, certain neither of them wanted to wait too long, “but let me work on your neck and shoulders just a little.” Pulling a sheet over Dean and gritting his teeth at the fact that it only seemed to emphasize Dean’s aroused state, he started to massage Dean’s shoulder, pushing his thumbs into pressure points at the back of his neck and right at the base of his skull every once in a while.

As he felt Dean relax, he pushed his hands under Deans back, alternating pulling them up along the center and the sides of his back, using Dean’s weight to give him more pressure. Seeing Dean’s eyes close, he smiled and worked on him a little longer. He loved touching Dean, loved the little sounds he made, and all the ways he showed Sam that he was enjoying being touched and appreciated it. 

He took his time with Dean, didn’t rush through it like he would when ordered to give Dex a massage. His life had changed so much. So very much. He leaned over as he pushed his hands all the way down to Dean’s hips, then as he dragged his hands up along his back, making Dean arch up, Sam kissed him again, softly, putting all his love into it.

Dean knew he wasn’t supposed to do anything but lay there and enjoy the massage, but when Sam gave him that tender kiss, he lifted his arm and placed his hand on the back of Sam’s head. He held him gently as he kissed him back. When they finally ended the kiss, Dean smiled. “And now you’re being angelic,” he said, slitting his eyes open and looking up into Sam’s face. “Yeah, definitely the face of an angel. Mmmm, we could give you wings for Halloween. Might be a little kinky even.”

“You wear the horns, I get the wings,” Sam nodded. “No, wait, I forgot... you’re wearing cheerleader short-shorts.” Chuckling, he moved to one side of the bed. “Roll onto your side, facing away from me,“ he said, his hands constantly moving over Dean’s body, his chest and side, once he’d tugged the sheet to one side. 

“Dean?” He was looking down at Dean’s body, isolating the muscles he was manipulating. “Who... You never speak about anyone who’s been, you know, special to you. Anyone you’ve been with long term.” He wasn’t sure exactly what he was asking or what he wanted to know. 

Dean was silent a moment. He knew this wasn’t a question he could just blow off. He could hear the slight trepidation in his husband’s voice. “Sammy, I’ve always been a slut. Never been with anyone long term. I never dated anyone, guy or girl, longer than about a month. I’d get restless, start moving on to my next target before I’d quite dumped them. You gotta realize, I didn’t stay in any one place longer than it took to do the job, usually.” He fell silent a minute then started speaking again, this time, much more quietly. “Had one girl I cared a lot about. She was in college, I was working a job in the area with my dad. Dated her a handful of times. I came clean, told her what I did, straight up. She dumped me faster than a hot potato. We were fire and water, both of us immature and hot-headed. It wouldn’t have lasted and we both probably knew it but I’d wanted it to last. At least, I think I did. But we were always good at the making up part, even if we pretty much sucked at the rest.” 

He twisted his head so he could look at Sam. “I ended up here and wasn’t about to piss in my own backyard, so kept my hands off of the available or unavailable in town. Honestly Sam? You’re my first true love. I never thought I’d find someone who’d accept me as a hunter, as a lover, someone who would put up with my shit. I figured I’d die young and bloody. Most hunters do. Maybe...maybe because most hunters don’t have anyone they love more than the job.” 

“Put up with you...” Sam’s eyes misted a little. “You’re seriously undervaluing yourself. I don’t know, maybe you don’t see what I see or what others see. Anyone would be lucky to have you as a friend, a lover, a partner, a husband. A father.” Sam swallowed over the lump in his throat, briefly meeting Dean’s gaze. “Keep your head straight.”

Dean reached out and grabbed Sam’s hand. “Sammy, I changed a lot after the accident. First time I was ever in one place, that day-after-day I’d wake up in the same house. No one left alive that really gave a rat’s ass about me. Complete strangers were taking care of me. But people in town, they looked in on me. If I had been the same cocky hunter before the accident that picked you up on that cold December night, I would’a made sure you two got away safe to Cali, and I might have thought about you from time to time, but I really doubt we’d be in each other’s lives. So you know what? I don’t regret my leg being like it is anymore. Cause of it, I have you. And I’d give anything to keep you and Emily with me for the rest of my days.” He squeezed Sam’s hand then seeing the sharp movement of Sam’s eyes, a silent order, he gave a nod. “Head straight. Aye-aye, Captain.” 

Sam didn’t answer. There were a lot worse things than being a player. A lot worse. Knowing Dean, he just didn’t see him as someone who would give others false notions of forever, when he didn’t mean it. Reaching for Dean’s arm, he pulled it across Dean’s body, the pressed his hip against Dean’s just right. “Good,” he whispered, hearing the soft popping sounds. He massaged a little longer, finishing off with a soft caress, before he moved to the other side of the bed. By the time he was in front of Dean, he’d shucked his pants and only had his shorts on. 

“Come closer to the edge,” he said, helping Dean scoot up right against him. This time, when Sam leaned in to press his hip against Dean’s, their cocks came into contact. Standing like that, he massaged Dean, is eyes closing as he felt himself get hard against Dean. “Definitely unethical.”

“We’re married. Not unethical,” Dean said, giving a soft groan, his cock rapidly stiffening again. “Never stop being unethical with me,” he said, letting out with small moans. Between Sam’s cock pressed and sliding against his and Sam’s skillful hands easing out any tension in his back and hips, he was in his own little version of heaven. “Mmm, yeah, wings,” he mumbled, pressing his hips forward a bit, rubbing their cocks harder together.

“Uh-uh, lemme do the work,” Sam said, his fingers digging into Dean a little deeper than he’d intended. Sam picked up the grinding where Dean had left off, giving a small sound of satisfaction. “Horns... definitely horns.” He took his time, touching Dean all over, relaxing him, loving him. 

“Damn... you’re getting me so hot. I might have to tip you,” Sam whispered hoarsely. Even though tipping usually went in the other direction, when it came to Dean, Sam was always on the receiving end of the pleasure. Leaning in suddenly, he tugged on one of Dean’s arms and pushed his weight down over Dean’s shoulder. 

Dean’s eyes popped open as his back and hips snap-crackled-popped from Sam’s adjustment. Another set of tense muscles or tendons seemed to suddenly relax. “Aw, fuck,” Dean groaned. “I think that got it,” he said, happy at the moment to let Sam do all the work. “I don’t need any more tips about how good broccoli is for me. But you can tip me in apple pie. And no horns for me. I think Emily would be crushed if I’m not a cheerleader, too for Halloween. Jerk.” 

“Horny cheerleader.” Laughing, Sam kissed him. “You’re gonna make a helluva cheerleader.” Rolling Dean onto his back, Sam climbed on top of him. Thrusting his hips a few time, he managed to quickly get very hard. “I was thinking of riding to a ‘happy ending,’” he said, lifting his head to see Dean’s reaction.


	2. Chapter 2

“Oh God, yeah,” spilled from Dean’s lips before he even realized it. He flushed a little. “I mean, if that’s what you want, that would be awesome. Dammit. You just lost your wings and earned the horns I think,” Dean complained. Reaching up he ran his fingers alongside Sam’s cheek, then traced down Sam’s chest to Sam’s shorts. He slowly slid his fingers in through the slit, wrapped his hand around Sam’s dick and gave it a light squeeze before beginning to slide his hand up and down its length.

Sam’s laugh abruptly cut off as soon as Dean’s hand closed around him. Leaning back, he closed his eyes and just thought about breathing. He tried to keep his weight off Dean’s thighs, but it was impossible, and he gave up. A thick groan escaped him as he thrust into Dean’s calloused hand stroking him so perfectly. With each thrust of his hips, he ground his ass down over Dean’s cock, making sure to keep him hard and wanting. “Every time you look at me like that, an angel loses its wings.”

“Nah, an angel just gets really, really jealous that you’re all mine and that I’m not gonna share,” Dean said, watching the emotions washing over his lover’s face. Even if Sam wasn’t rocking back and forth along his hard length, he would be getting off just as much. Everything was plain and exposed on Sam’s face, it was beautiful, it was perfection, and he almost wished it would never end.

“You’re wrong. An angel gets jealous that you’re mine,” Sam countered, licking his lips and slowly getting up onto his knees. As soon as Dean pulled his hands out of his shorts, Sam pulled the shorts down, all the way to his knees. He leaned forward, dropping his hands onto the mattress on either side of Dean’s head and locking gazes with him. “I love you. Love you, Dean,” he whispered, then kissed him slowly... thoroughly.

By the time he broke the kiss, they were both panting hard. He grasped Dean’s cock, aligned it to his hole and started to sit. “S’alright,” he said, seeing Dean was about to put a stop to it. “I can take it. I _trust_ you.”

“And you know I hate it when you don’t use lube. Especially when it’s within reach,” Dean said, slipping his hand under the massage table and coming back with a package of lube that had duct tape on one side of it. He’d taped packets of lube around the house in hidden locations that Emily wouldn’t likely find but which were within easy reach of where they tended to have sex. He held it out to Sam. “So do it right, baby, and let’s make all those angels jealous.” The heat in his eyes didn’t alter the stern look he gave Sam before glancing to the packet and back into his lover’s eyes. 

“I know. Because you want to protect me,” Sam nodded, also looking at the packet. “The guys you’ve had in back alleys didn’t need it. I don’t _need it_ ,” he said.

“I know you don’t. But you _deserve_ it. And it’s not just because I want to protect you, idget. It’s ‘cause I love you. _Please_ Sammy. For me,” Dean said, his eyes softening.

Sam wasn’t quite convinced that it wasn’t something Dean might want to do from time to time, but he couldn’t argue. Not when Dean was speaking to him like this, asking him like this. “Bet you don’t dream of waiting for lube,” he said, even as he opened the packet and squeezed some lube into his hand. Slowly, he coated Dean’s rock hard cock, his eyes never leaving Dean’s.

Dean shut his eyes a moment as Sam’s lubed hand ran up and down his cock. “You think I don’t enjoy this just as much?” he said, giving a soft groan and small thrust at the feel of Sam’s hand. He opened his eyes part-way. His voice had grown thick and raspy. “Sometimes I dream of coming up behind you, rubbing your dick with my hand while getting your pants open and then just pushing in. Other times I imagine us going at it just like this, but I’m blindfolded and you sink down on my cock without warning. And sometimes I think of you giving me an awesome massage and it ending with you lubing up my cock and then slowly sinking down on it, then leaning forward and kissing me before you straighten back up and ride me until I’m raw. Baby, I want you every way I can have you and I will _always_ wait until you’re ready. With lube, without lube. Anything that makes this last longer,” Dean smirked, “I’m all for. And Sammy, in case you’re wondering, I _never_ dream of anyone but you.” 

Sam stared long and hard at Dean, unable to believe that after years of bad luck, he’d somehow ended up with this gorgeous man, who had all the right words and backed them up with action. “I don’t dare dream of you... I’m afraid I’ll wake up and it will all just be a dream. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Dean. And I’m _never_ letting go. Not ever,” he vowed, shifting and slowly sitting down over Dean’s cock, his upper teeth cutting into his lip as he pushed down harder, taking all of his lover deep inside him.

Giving a moan and arching up slightly as Sam pushed down, he was unable to speak for the moment. When he was fully buried in Sam, he put his hands on Sam’s thighs. “We said the vows, we traded rings, but even if we hadn’t been able to, you can’t be afraid, not anymore. I’m yours. When you’re asleep, when you’re awake, when you’re close, when you’re not. Dream of me, cause otherwise, I might get jealous of all your other dreams. I’m the only one allowed in that head of yours. Or that Prince Eric guy from the Little Mermaid, since I know you’re still crushing on him.” Dean grinned and slid his hands up and down Sam’s thighs.

“M’not. You’re the only one I’m crushing on,” Sam answered, moving his hips slowly as he got used to Dean stretching him. “Only one I want in my dreams. In my bed. Inside me,” he said thickly, lifting a little and pushing down. “Or across my dinner table.”

Sliding his hands down along Dean’s body, he kissed Dean hard, the way Dean had described in his dream, squeezing his inner muscles around Dean, giving him a taste of what was to come.

Wrapping his arms around Sam, Dean kissed Sam back, giving a groan when he felt Sam tighten around him. He slid one hand down as far as he could, kneading Sam’s skin with his fingertips. He didn’t let Sam go, not for a while, as he kissed him thoroughly, lightly thrusting now and again and caressing Sam’s body. “You spoil me,” he whispered in Sam’s ear. 

“Ditto,” Sam answered, sucking on a sweet spot on the side of Dean’s neck. Hard and fast. That had been the plan. But plans never went according to plan. Instead, they made love slow, and easy, exchanging words of love. It was something Sam had never even dared to dream of. But maybe he would now. Maybe he would.

Dean kissed Sam tenderly, time and again, sensing it was what Sam needed. Even after their time together, Sam still surprised him. Never dreaming of him because Sam was afraid of waking and finding Dean wasn’t real. But he understood. All too well, he understood. He’d never had a real birthday party, or celebrated Easter, or colored Easter eggs. He had never had so many simple things that Sam and Emily gave to him now. It was sheer magic. Every moment of it.

Dean began to slowly tease Sam, running his fingers over Sam’s nipples, nipping the side of his neck, giving brief kisses and running his fingers lightly across the firm muscles he loved touching so much. His hand drifted between them occasionally, brushing over Sam’s cock, teasing it as well.

Soft moans slipped passed Sam’s lips. “You’re making it hard for this to last forever...” he half-complained, half-groaned with pleasure. “Maybe.... maybe we’ll just have to start all over in the shower. Oh God.... Dean...” His fingers bit into Dean’s arm as a jolt of electric heat rocked his body. “Ngh... Dean...” 

Sam pushed up, sat back and started to move harder and faster, to ride Dean the way Dean had described. He reached out and grabbed Dean’s hands, threading his fingers through Dean’s as he rocked. Neither of them could touch the other, it made it better, and oh, so damned worse.

“Problem with forever is you never reach the end,” Dean said, beginning to thrust harder, squeezing his fingers tightly against Sam’s. “Oh, God, Sammy, you’re, ungh, perfect, ngh, yes, oh, fuck, yeah,” Dean said, words and sounds beginning to spill out of him that were practically incoherent nonsense. He could feel Sam’s cock bounce against him, leaving scalding trails of cum in its wake. Dean tried to angle to hit Sam’s prostate, but knew Sam would have to do most of the adjusting for the most pleasure. His own tortured pleasure was sky-rocketing higher and higher. 

“Problem with reaching the end is...” Sam couldn’t complete his thought. His head dropped forward as he started to rock harder, sometimes raising himself so high only Dean’s tip was inside him, before he sank back down and started undulating his hips. He alternated his speed, making sure Dean couldn’t guess where he was going next, until he felt Dean’s fingers clench around his. Then he knew it was time.

Releasing one of Dean’s hands, he put his own down on the mattress for leverage, and started to ride Dean hard. He was merciless, taking the burn with the pleasure, and knowing Dean would do the same.

Dean could only make sounds as Sam rode him just like he loved, like he dreamed of at times. He thrust hard, stuttering sometimes when Sam suddenly changed pace on him and he squeezed Sam’s hand for a moment. He lifted and pounded and gave encouraging sounds as he grew ever closer and closer.

“Nngh, Sammm, ungh-ungh-ungh,” he cried out louder until he felt it, the tightening of his balls as he pistoned hard into Sam, hard and fast. Heat erupted inside him as he filled Sam again and again as he practically spasmed and cried out his lover’s name.

Sam echoed Dean’s shouts, spilling his cum across Dean’s stomach. “So... good...” he managed, still rocking, trying to wring every last pleasure he could out of the moments. “Fucking spectacular.” By the time he stopped moving, his chest was heaving and he had a thin sheen of sweat over him. Looking down into Dean’s lust-blown eyes, he gave a tired smile. “It can’t get better than this,” he said, lifting off Dean, then dropping down into his arms, and kissing him.

“Sure it can. Imagining doing this for the rest of our lives,” Dean murmured against Sam’s cheek as he kissed him there, and holding him tightly even as his eyes closed and he smiled contentedly.

“Yeah. I guess it can.” Sam tugged the sheet over them, and settled in. “I don’t wanna move for a little while. Just want... this,” he said, nuzzling Dean’s neck. “Just want you. Always.” 

“We don’t hafta go anywhere,” Dean said, tilting his head to give Sam any access he wanted. “And you have me. Always,” Dean reassured him, letting his mind drift as he slowly slipped off to sleep.

* * *

“Emily, stop squirming around,” Sam chided, struggling to tie the ribbons in her hair just right. 

“You’re not gonna put that icky stuff in my hair, are you?”

“You mean the hair spray Lolla gave me? It’ll help keep the strands from slipping out,” he said, frowning in concentration.

“Don’t like the smell.”

“Okay. We won’t use it then.” Sam was almost relieved. He’d seen the hairdressers at work use it often enough, but he’d never tried it on Em. “I’ll bring a brush along.”

Standing back, he looked at her reflection and gave an impressed look. He’d done a damned good job. “How’s that?”

“Yay,” she shouted, jumping up. “Can I have the pompoms now? Are you going to get Popsie dressed? He’s snoozing. Can Rumsey come with us? I forgot to get a candy bag!” 

“Yes, if you don’t let Rumsey get to them again. Yes, I’ll wake him, sure we can, and I got it.” Sam looked down at her with a smug grin.

Looking up, she grinned. “Daddy, you’re silly.”

“Yes, I am. Now let’s go and _quietly_ wake--” Before he’d finished, she’d grabbed the pompoms and shot out the door. He could hear her in the master bedroom.

“Give me a ‘W,’ give me an ‘A,’ give me a ‘C,’ give me an ‘up,’ Wake up, wake up, wake up,” she shouted, shaking the pompoms, with Rumsey leaping up to try to get them, and landing heavily on the wooden floor.

_Gimme that shotgun now, Goddammit,” John Winchester yelled at his son._

Dean rolled out of the chair, away from the creature who was making loud thumps and rustling the bushes. He half-squatted, and reached for his duffel. “Yessir!” he yelled out, then looked around him, baffled, reaching for a gun that was only in his dream memories. He slowly straightened as his head cleared and saw Emily standing there with a surprised look on her face and even Rumsfeld had frozen, recognizing the commanding tone. He dry-scrubbed his face, trying to shake the memories of that hunt out of his head. His heart was still pounding and he could tell his hip wasn’t going to be quiet about his acrobatics once the adrenaline wore-off.

Sam walked in on the silence, glancing at the baffled expressions on everyone’s faces. He crossed to Dean and put his hand on Dean’s back. “Everything alright, here?” he asked.

“Popsie thinks I’m a sir,” Emily whispered, her lower lip quivering just a little.

“A what?”

“I had a dream, my father, bushes rustling...we were...hiking,” Dean said. “A wild boar came at us and he was telling me to give him my, ah, walking stick and get out of the way.” He gave a smile to Emily. “You look really good, just like a real cheerleader. But let’s not use pom-poms and cheers to wake your popsie up out of a dead sleep again, okay, Imp? Your soft singing is more my style of wake up.” He gave Emily a wink. Glancing at Sam he asked, “My turn to get dressed up? And no ribbons in my hair unless you’ve got a wig and dark glasses for me.” 

“Okay, he likes it, let’s go!” Throwing her arm around Rumsfeld’s neck, Em started pulling him to the door. She stopped. “Daddy, he needs ribbons.”

“Yes, they both do. Go ahead and go downstairs and feed Rumsey. I’ve left a nice sandwich for you on the table, so you don’t get hungry when we’re trick or treating. And some fruit.”

“No dessert?” She asked, eyes widening like it was a sacrilege.

“I think you’ll be having plenty of candy…”

“Oh yeah!,” she said, disappearing out the door.

“Sorry about that. She was out the door before I could stop her,” Sam said, brushing Dean’s lips with his own.

“Let’s just be sure there are no more cheers to wake me up. I rolled out of that chair grabbing for a shotgun that wasn’t there, scrambling to try to help my father.” He pulled Sam close and gave him a kiss. “So you better get me a muscle relaxant and pain-pills now because when my adrenaline wears off I doubt I’ll be happy. And I don’t want to ruin Trick or Treating for her.” He rested his cheek against Sam’s. “The meaning of true love. Dean Winchester wearing a cheerleader’s skirt and ponytails with ribbons. I hope you bought some grapefruit because I wanna have some big kahunas if I gotta be a girl.”

“Just be sure I’m the only one touching those kahunas,” Sam said, laughing. “You’d really do this. Get in a skirt and wear a wig, all of it?” His eyes were shining with all the love he had for this man who was too good to be true. 

“Course,” Dean said and smirked. “I got awesome legs to show off. Besides I can’t disappoint the Imp. But next year _you_ are so going as the chick and I’m the guy. So lead me to my cheering _kilt._ ”

“I wouldn’t look good in lipstick, but _those_ plump and juicy lips--” He gave Dean a look. “Mmm, mmm.” A big grin still plastered across his face, Sam got Dean’s meds, and pointed at the glass on the nightstand. It was half full. Then he disappeared into the closet and grabbed a bag.

Dean braced himself. Guys wore skirts if that was their thing and that was no big deal to Dean. And kilts, well, kilts were kinda cool, But a mini with ruffles? Yeah, he had a feeling he was not going to live this down in the town. Like ever. The things he did for Sam and Emily were damned near scary.

“So I got red and white, to match Em,” Sam said, pulling out a white polo shirt. “Don’t cringe, okay? I did my best,” he said, pulling the red garment out, his eyes glued on Dean’s face.

Dean’s mouth practically dropped open. “No skirt? No ruffles?” Dean said, the air rushing out of his lungs. He took just a moment to glare at Sam. “You are a grade A shit sometimes, you know that? You could’a told me!” His look softened. “But I thought I was supposed to be a cheerleader, not a coach. Em will be disappointed.”

“I showed her pictures of boy cheerleaders, with long pants. We compromised on these shorts. Bright side, you still get to show off your legs. And ass,” he said, holding the shorts up higher. “I think they’ll be a nice tight fit.” His shoulders shook a little as he chuckled. “C’mon, Dean, I wouldn’t let you wear a skirt in this town. I can just imagine the jokes every time you go out to tow a vehicle, or when they bring their cars in. But the fact that you’d do it…” Sam let his expression speak for him. 

“Fuck ‘em if they can’t appreciate a father’s matching Halloween costume. Though with that outfit,” Dean pointed his index finger at the polo and shorts, “it’s a sure bet I won’t be clocking a bunch of jerks for skirt-cracks.” He gave Sam a relieved smile. “Thank you, Sam. For protecting what little reputation I have in this town. And thank God it hasn’t gotten cold yet.” 

“Yeah, then you’d be stuffing a sock in your shorts…” Sliding his hand over Dean’s face, Sam kissed him and went to get the gym socks and sneakers. “And you have a lovely headband, unless you’re dead set on ribbons?” he asked over his shoulder.

“Headband. Definitely headband,” Dean said quickly. “Hmm, socks in my shorts...I like that idea.”

“Big kahunas.” Sam shook his head and returned with the rest of Dean’s clothes. “I guess I should get into my Matrix outfit now,” he said ever so casually, passing Dean and going to the door. “It’s hanging in Em’s room. Meet ya in a few.”

“Matrix?” Dean nearly squeaked. “I’m going downstairs right now because Dude, if you’re _seriously_ not going as a football player and are in the leather pants...we won’t make it down the stairs and we’ll have one pissed off cheerleader imp.” Dean quickly changed into the costume, glancing at the half hard on he had just from thinking about Matrix Sammy. Definitely no need for sock stuffing at the moment…

* * * 

Sam took a little time getting ready. All the while, he felt like some teenager wanting to see his date’s reaction. Dean was responsible for his state of excitement. No matter what, Dean always made him feel good. Even when he disagreed with Sam’s taste in music, or anything, he’d make a joke of it. His words didn’t cut. 

He couldn’t help thinking to past Halloweens with Dex. The guy never left the couch for his family and always had something to say about what Sam was wearing. Sam looked like a slob, or he wasn’t gonna fool even the toddlers, or whatever. Worse, he didn’t even have any kind words for Emily. 

Sam put all of that out of his mind. It didn’t matter. The past was the past. His present and his future were downstairs, in the form of his husband and his daughter. Dexter’s ashes had been salted and scattered to the winds.

Sliding the dark glasses into place, he ran his hand over his slicked back hair one more time, then headed down the stairs. Course Emily was talking Dean’s ear off and making him practice cheers with her. “I think I’ll find a cheerleading class for her next summer,” he said as he neared the bottom of the stairs. 

Dean twisted his head and looked up from where he was teasing Emily by mixing up the words to the cheers she was trying to teach him. He stopped mid-sentence and just _stared_ at Sam.

“Holy fucking shit,” Dean whispered, belatedly covering Emily’s ears. He climbed slowly to his feet. “Spin around, make that duster spin out so I can really get a good look at my...aye-aye-aye...hotter-than-hell husband.”

“Dean!” Sam huffed, but couldn’t help enjoying Dean’s reaction anyway. 

“Show Popsie your guns,” Emily said, shaking Dean’s hands off her ears, and looking up. “They’re really big.”

As Sam spun around, he couldn’t help laughing. Pushing his coat to one side, he let Dean get a look at the holstered guns. And when he stopped, he gave a whistle. “Nice… _shorts_.” 

“I always knew you appreciated big guns, Sammy,” Dean said, and wolf-whistled Sam. “And Sam, whatever that costume cost...I’d give up _pie_ to help cover any holes in the budget for it.” Dean just stared at him for a minute longer. “This is picture worthy. All of us together, and then a couple separate. Then we go trick or treating.”

“It’s a rental. We have it for forty-eight hours,” Sam said, waggling his brows. 

“C’mon, Rumsey, picture time.” Emily already had the leash on him and she’d put on his reindeer antlers. “What? I know it’s not Christmas, but he doesn’t!” she said looking up at her dads.

“She’s absolutely right,” Dean said almost gravely and picked up the digital camera Sam and Emily had gotten him for his birthday. As he walked by Sam, he leaned in close and whispered, “Find out how much to buy that costume. No, I’m _not_ joking.”

Sam’s eyes widened. He cocked his head to the side, but decided to question Dean privately. The rental had cost a pretty penny, but Dean’s reaction made it worth it.

He was just a little flustered, but managed to pull Em and Rumsey close, while Dean set the camera up on the mantle. He opened his arm, so Dean would come stand next to him for the family picture.

“I’m gonna do splits,” Emily announced.

“In another picture, Em. I don’t think we’ll be able to get you on the floor, and me all the way up here, in a frame,” Sam said, holding her in place. After the flash went off, he released her and kissed Dean, and the flash went off again. “Hey!”

“The camera knows a hot scene when it sees it,” Dean said. “Okay Em, a couple of just you. Maybe splits, then jumping up with your pompoms bouncing…” A distasteful look crossed Dean’s face. “Er, waving your pompoms. I don’t want you bouncing your pompoms. Then we’ll get a couple of you and your dad, and then a couple _poses_ of your dad.” He gave Sam a quick but distinct leer.

“Popsie, you have to pick me up and throw me up. Daddy, show him,” Emily said.

“That’s right, I told her boy cheerleaders are good for that,” Sam said, easily picking her up. “Pompoms up in the air, ready?” He tossed her a couple times, then took some stills with her. Then it was her turn with Rumsfeld. Sam stood next to Dean and directed them.

When it was Dean’s turn to get in the action, Sam cautioned him. “Don’t over-do the tossing. I’ve got after trick or treating activities planned for us.” Leering at Dean’s ass, he picked up the camera.

“Oh, believe me, I have some activities planned, too. I’ll be very careful.” Dean scooped up Emily and set her on his shoulder, then backed up to the bookcase. “Okay sweetie, you’re going to stand up on my shoulders. Hang on to the bookcase to help you and I’m gonna hold on to your ankles. And don’t you ever do this without an adult present and helping.” Dean stood stone still as Emily twisted around and after a minute or so of figuring out how to do it, and with Sam’s reluctant help, she was standing on Dean’s shoulders. “That’s a girl. No bouncing. No jumping. Just hold the pompoms out and smile. And watch the ceiling.” 

After a couple more pictures of Emily and Dean, Dean gave some silly and some sexy and some serious poses in his costume. “Am I right? Do I have awesome legs or what?” 

“Nooooo,” Emily was quick to answer.

Sam gave the opposite response, laughing. “And what’s wrong with his legs,” Sam demanded.

“They’re just legs,” Emily shrugged. “Maybe we should put a tattoo on them. I have the glittery kind,” she offered.

“No. It’s too late for that. Let’s get going before all the good stuff’s gone.” It didn’t take any more than that for Emily and the dog to be out the door. 

Sam put his hand out to take Dean’s, as they walked out onto the porch. “Come on, sexy legs.”

Dean leaned in close, “And you’re sexy everything.” He brushed his lips over Sam’s cheek. “We’re definitely taking the Impala, cause a car with magic should definitely be out cruising on Halloween.” He squeezed Sam’s hand. 

* * * 

A few hours later, they’d sorted the candy that Emily could have from those that were unwrapped. “Great haul you got there,” Sam said. “Just remember what we talked about.”

“Not all of it at the same time,” she agreed brightly, unwrapping yet another candy, despite her dad’s groan.

“You’re not giving her the thumbs up, are you Dean?” Sam asked, sensing someone behind him.

“How did you know?!” she asked.

Sam mock collapsed on the table, amid their laughter.

“That’s your last piece,” Dean said, slapping Sam on the back. “We’ll divide it up tomorrow night into a container for lunch treats, and a container for snacks.” He got out some milk and poured a mug three-quarters full. “The Hershey pieces we’ll keep for s’mores and maybe some we’ll chop up to go on ice cream, or put in cookies or stuff.” He put the milk in the microwave and warmed it up before giving it to her. 

“Don’t forget, Rummy doesn’t get any of the candy. It can make him sick. What are you going to do with all the money you got?” Dean asked and slid into the chair next to Sam, putting the milk in front of Emily. They needed something to counter all that sugar in her system.

“I’m going to buy you better ribbons for your hair,” she said her upper lip marked with a white mustache.

Just as Sam started to laugh, the imp turned to him.

“For you too, Daddy. It’s easier to braid your hair. Popsie told me that.”

Sam looked like he’d swallowed a frog, then he was looking askance at Dean.

Dean reached across and gave Emily’s hand a light squeeze. “I think we should start you a savings account. Say...half of it. There’s gonna come a day you’re gonna want things like a video game, or music or a movie. Maybe even a car when you’re old enough. Maybe at Christmas you want to get your best friend a friendship bracelet or something. Savings accounts are for special things. The other half can go in your piggy bank, but you should buy something other than ribbons, at least for us. You know your dad isn’t supposed to wear anything like jewelry when he’s working, and ribbons might get in the way. And when I’m working on cars, you know I don’t let you lean over a car engine unless your hair is back and there are no ribbons in your hair that might get caught. If you really, really want to spend your money on us, then this weekend we could go out and you could buy us each a small scoop of ice cream or something. And we can take pictures of it so we’d always have it and they won’t get lost or worn out like ribbons might. But it’s your money. All of it. So you get to choose what you want to do with it. All of it.” Dean gave her a smile and chuckled as he reached across and wiped her milk mustache off with his thumb. 

“Okay. I’ll buy us all a _big_ scoop of ice cream,” she said, wiping her mouth right after Popsie did. “Maybe even a double or triple scoop, with Oreos on top.”

“Uh huh. And that’s after you eat all this,” Sam waved at the candy and gave a sigh. “Okay, Em, let’s get you to bed. Go get into your jammies, pick a book, and I’ll bring the rest of your milk up. Say good night,” he nodded towards Dean.

Em grabbed a small chocolate bar, and went to give Dean a kiss. “Love you,” she said, smiling, cause she knew he’d seen her.

Dean leaned over so she could give him a kiss. After she did, he kissed her cheek. “I love you, too, Imp. Is that piece of chocolate for your popsie?” Dean asked.

Sam’s head snapped up to look at the pair of them.

Letting out a sad sigh, she opened her palm. Popsie usually helped her get away with things, so she was surprised when he didn’t.

“Em, upstairs,” Sam gently reminded her, after exchanging looks with Dean.

Dean picked up the chocolate bar. “Thank you for sharing with me,” Dean said. “I’ll make sure you get an extra piece of candy in your lunch bag tomorrow,” he promised her. “Now scoot. And be sure to brush your teeth really well. You had a lot of sugar tonight, Imp, and you have too pretty a smile to ruin it with too much sugar.”

He watched as Emily gave him one last sad look, then headed up the stairs. He glanced over at Sam. “What?” he asked at the look Sam gave him. “You had the talk with her about not eating too much at once and she snuck one final piece. I’m cool with that, a smidgen of rebellion is good, so long as at least one of us knows about it. But then I told her no more, too, and she tried to sneak _another_ piece. Can’t let you be the bad guy all the time. I’m her dad, too. And maybe sometimes I don’t support you enough.”

Sam walked around the table to Dean’s side and rubbed his shoulder. “You’re firm where it’s necessary, and you balance me out when maybe I overdo it,” he admitted. “So, I’m gonna light the fire. Maybe you can have drinks ready when I get back down here. Glasses or no glasses,” he asked, picking the shades up off the table, and sauntering away towards the stairs. 

“Glasses, and hey, slow down so I can watch that tightly clad ass!” Dean said. As soon as Sam lit the fire and headed up the stairs, out of sight, Dean practically jumped up. He strode out to the living room and got the big fluffy blanket, spreading it out on the floor, tossing a couple pillows down. He popped open a bottle of one of Sam’s favorite wines, pouring a goblet for each of them. He pulled out a plate he’d covered with foil and hidden in a drawer earlier in the day. It had grapes and cheese and crackers and slices of summer sausage. He carried everything out to the coffee table that he’d just happened to clean off before they’d left for trick or treating. He spread out a very small orange and black table cloth and arranged everything on it. After he turned on some of the romantic music he knew Sam liked, he pulled off his shirt and used some of the scented massage oil to make his chest glisten. After a final glance around, he grabbed a candle and put it in the middle of the coffee table, lighting it, then turned the lights a little low, but not so low that Sam would kill himself walking in with the shades on.

Hearing Sam heading towards the stair, he pulled off his socks and shoes, tossing them aside then settled back to wait for Matrix Sammy in those tight leather pants. 

Sam was about to switch the lights on at the top of the stairs, but then he realized Dean had shut them off. The soft music floating up the stairs told him everything he needed to know.

Putting the glasses on, even though he felt a little silly seeing as it was dark, he slowly walked down the stairs. He wasn’t wearing the coat anymore, so the weapons strapped to his body were visible.

And then he saw Dean and his act went out the window. Faltering, he swallowed and stared for a long moment. With the golden lights playing over his bare chest and the heat his eyes, Dean took Sam’s breath away. 

“Whatsamatter, Matrix Man? Can’t believe what the computer dreamed up for you this time? Come closer and show me those guns, good-looking. Maybe I’ll show you mine if you’re really lucky.” Dean licked his lips and watched every move Sam made. He’d had half a hard on since he’d first seen Sam in the outfit, but now, he felt the heat pool in his groin.

Sam felt a blush stealing over his face. It was a good thing the lights were off. “I don’t care how many times we do it tonight, Dean, I’m gonna be thinking about this for days. Weeks,” he said, still staring at his handsome husband. “You’d better be ready for some lunch dates, ‘cause… yeah, all your fault I’ll be calling you to come over,” he warned.

He moved down the rest of the stairs, angling his body so Dean could see the weapons. Then he walked over to Dean, standing above him, straddling him. “You think you can disarm me?” he asked, sliding the glasses off, and dropping them next to Dean. 

Dean grinned up at him. “Cold weather should be here already, so you know it’s gonna come in like a charging bull...I won’t mind a few afternoon warm ups.” Running his hands up and down the sides of Sam’s soft leather pants had him ready to cream himself. “One look at you in that leather and baby, I’m more than warmed up.” Dean ran light fingers over the prop guns Sam had strapped on. “Are these the guns you want me to play with, or did you have a different one in mind?” His voice had turned husky and he found himself licking his lips again. 

“I don’t know, Dean. Are you ready to play with a real gun?” Sam asked. His voice seemed to be coming from far away. He could scarcely believe they were playing games like this. Dean was a bad influence, and Sam loved it.

He shifted his legs, then slowly turned around, re-straddling Dean’s body. He gave Dean a look at his ass, and the weapon tucked in at the small of his back. Then he saw one of the goblets was on the mantle. “Is that my drink?” he asked, slowly walking away to get it, then turning and locking gazes with Dean as he took a sip. All he really wanted to do was drop down next to Dean and drive him as crazy as Dean was driving him right now.

Dean’s mouth went dry. Holy crap. Absolutely, holy crap. They’d played little games before, but not full on role play. He wanted to just flat out pounce Sam, but Neo was the hero, and so Sam should be the one calling the shots. 

“Yeah, that’s your drink. I put a little extra aphrodisiac in it. It’ll keep you going all night long, baby. Not that you probably need the help, but I’m a machine, so I wanted to make sure you’d keep up.” Dean gave him a sexy smile. “You want me to feed you some grapes, handsome? Or do you want my hands somewhere else?”

Sam lifted the glass, and drank slowly. His other hand hovered over one of the guns strapped to his thigh. He let his fingers slide over it now and again, eyes locked with Dean’s. “I hope your program is in a loop, because I don’t think I’m giving you any rest breaks. Who do I have to thank for making you to my exact specifications? Tall. Ruggedly handsome. Devastating eyes.” 

“Trinity knows what you like, baby. She’s the reason I’m in these shorts, but you’re the reason,” Dean faltered as he watched Sam’s hand rove over the gun at his side. The huskiness returned to his voice full force. “You’re the reason my shorts are so damned tight. You haven’t even touched me yet and I’m already pearling my shorts. God, are you fucking hot.” 

Sam’s gaze slowly traveled to Dean’s shorts, his heart rate going through the roof when he saw Dean wasn’t kidding. He licked his lips and slowly walked back to Dean, dropping down onto his knees next to him. “Why don’t you disarm me. And then, did you say something about grapes?” He took another sip of his drink and just waited, thoughts of Dean’s hand on his thigh making his mind reel.

Dean reached out and slowly undid one belt and pulled off the weapon and holster, then turned to the other one. “I like big guns,” he murmured. He set both guns aside, far enough out of reach that they would not inadvertently roll on top of them. He reached around and pulled the gun out of the back of Sam’s waistband. “And I love surprises. Big ones, little ones, and you are full of them. I was expecting a football player, and you give me this.” Dean ran one hand down Sam’s chest. “I am the fucking luckiest guy in any world, real or make believe.” He looked up into Sam’s beautiful eyes. “Why don’t you lean back as I search you over for other weapons. You never know where a weapon might be hidden.”

“You’re not gonna try to take advantage of me, are you?” Sam asked, knowing perfectly well that Dean was basically posing him for his pleasure. Which was perfectly fine with Sam. That was exactly why he was wearing the outfit. “Trusting you here.” Running his own hand down Dean’s bare chest, he dropped his hands to the floor and bowed back for Dean, lifting his hips up his. “So search me.”

Dean gave a soft groan. “Trinity programmed me with an iron will or I’d be jumping your ass right now,” he said as he began a slow investigative caress. The smell of leather surrounded him, punctuated with the scents of wine and cheese, the muskiness of Sam’s excitement, and the masculine scent of the massage oil he’d chosen. He followed the caress of his hands with light kisses, lifting Sam’s shirt to find hot bare skin underneath. He went down Sam’s hip, sweeping slowly across his groin, then began working down his thigh and calf. He gingerly tugged off the first boot, and stripped off the dark sock, rubbing his cheek along the bottom of Sam’s foot. He gave the foot a short if intense massage, relaxing any tense muscles there, then turned to Sam’s other foot and did much the same before sliding his hand up the cuff of Sam’s pants, kneading Sam’s calf muscle as he gently bit Sam’s knee.

Everywhere Dean touched him, fire licked at Sam. He gave a soft moan, and threw his head back, forcing himself to stay still. It was hard, so damned hard. And he never knew where Dean was going to touch him next.

When Dean lovingly rubbed his face against Sam’s foot, Sam didn’t only physically react, but he did so emotionally. He couldn’t even imagine Dex doing anything of the sort. “Dean,” he whispered softly, jerking a little at the unexpected bite, and looking at him. “I’m clean. You’re not gonna find anything else on me.” 

“I don’t know, Sammy, I still have one very _special_ region to investigate for weapons. You want me to check there, or shall I feed you some grapes while I feel you up, down, and around?” Dean asked, moving further up Sam’s body, brushing his fingers over Sam’s groin before sliding up and underneath his shirt. “Those Greek sculptors never got it right if they ever tried to sculpt the most beautiful guy in the world. Cause they never had you to look at.”

The pictures Dean painted drew a soft, needy groan from Sam. “Yeah, feel me up while you feed me,” he said, lifting up. The heat in Dean’s eyes was inescapable. Sam couldn’t help himself; he slowly leaned in. “I’m too tall to be an ideal, but you… Adonis can’t hold a candle to you,” he said, giving Dean an open-mouthed kiss. 

Dean accepted the invitation and slipped his tongue inside Sam’s mouth, exploring every bit of it and his hands worked Sam’s dark shirt up higher so he could reach and toy with his nipples. When he broke long enough to draw in a breath, he said, “I _like_ tall. And I _love_ you, Sammy. More than anything. More than the Impala. More than having a home. The only one I’d ever put before you would be Emily. Cause I love her, too.”

Sam whimpered under Dean’s ministrations. When he finally took a breath, Dean’s words had his heart swelling. He rolled over, on top of Dean and looked down into his face. “And I love you, more than anything. I still feel like I’m in some dream. I keep waiting for something to go wrong. And … it doesn’t. And I wake up, and you’re there again, with me.” Smiling, Sam brushed his mouth across Dean’s.

“Also… damn you’re sexy,” Sam practically growled, this time lowering his mouth over Dean’s in a hungry kiss. He knew he was the one who was supposed to get groped, but he couldn’t help himself. He slipped his hand between their bodies, cupped Dean’s arousal, and lightly squeezed him. 

Dean reacted instantly to Sam’s hand on his cock and arched up, groaning into Sam’s mouth. He wrapped his arms around Sam and made love to his mouth as his hips undulated with each squeeze of Sam’s large hand. When given the chance, although he was panting, he managed to get out, “Do me a favor, Sammy. Stop thinking this is a dream. It’s real. I’m real. You are and always will be the only one I ever love to the depths of my soul, right down to the tips of my toes.” He grinned and met Sam’s gaze. “Even my toes want you, Sam. They lust after you and that’s why you get cold feet pressed against you when I climb into bed at night. They want you, Baby, right down to their cuticles.” 

Laughing, Sam raised himself up. “Even your cuticles, huh?” Shaking his head, he said, “That’s all I’m gonna be thinking about now every time you do put your feet between my legs.”

He loved this man. He loved Dean body and soul. The miracle was that Dean loved him back. “Take my shirt off, Dean,” he whispered, letting Dean up. 

Dean grinned and whipped the shirt up and over Sam’s head, tossing it onto the cushions of the nearby couch. “Good, if you’re thinking about my cuticles, you won’t be bitching at me for my cold feet.” He kissed Sam then, with all the love in his heart. “You’re mine, forever and always,” he whispered softly. “And I’m the luckiest damned bastard in all of creation.” Giving a smirk he added, “So what say we try for the hottest damned sex either of us have ever dared to imagine.”

“You wanna burn the house down, huh?” Giving Dean a heated look, Sam slowly drew him close. “I’m all yours, forever and always.”

“Damned straight,” Dean said and caught Sam up in a kiss aimed at melting every last part of him.

THE END


End file.
